


The Gunslinger

by The_neigh_sayer



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Other, gun - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-10
Updated: 2020-08-10
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:20:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 302
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25826554
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_neigh_sayer/pseuds/The_neigh_sayer
Summary: Just a little something I thought of one day while listening to the RDR soundtrack.
Kudos: 5





	The Gunslinger

Dust blows down the empty street, its occupants since scattered to the wind, fear having driven everyone inside to watch from the safety of their windows. 

The gunslinger emerges through the saloon’s double-hinged doors, the shuddering squeak of its rusty hinges the only sound in the forlorn town. He slowly descends the dusty steps, his spurs jingling, his worn boots clapping against the wood. His gray, battered hat is pulled low but his hardened eyes are on his challenger in the middle of the street. 

He keeps his eyes trained on his challenger as he reaches his place—12 paces west. He comes to a stop and faces him, his right hand hovering over the iron on his hip. 

Silence engulfs them and time stands still. He takes a deep breath and lets it out. A hawk circling overhead lets out a shrill call. 

His challenger growls, “Draw,” and time slows. His hand closes on the warm mahogany grip of his schofield revolver and it slides easily from its holster. He raises it in front of him, elbow bent, and six shots echo through the empty town, the last one driving clean through his challenger’s forehead. 

The challenger drops in a heap. His hand never touched his gun. 

The gunslinger twirls his revolver and replaces it in its holster. The people behind their windows watch and wonder: who is this stranger? 

He pulls his hat lower against the wind, turns, and mounts a horse hitched nearby—a silver bay stallion. A woman steps timidly from a building and watches him. He tips his hat to her and, with a raspy “ma’am”, he spurs his horse west out of town, the dust blowing up, as if to erase his existence from the town’s memory. 

But the people will remember. And they will wonder.


End file.
